A Life Worth Fighting For
by Tobiiiaaas
Summary: Jac Naylor's life is at the lowest it's ever been. Stuck in an abusive relationship with Hospital CEO, Guy Self, Jac finds her professional and personal life under increasing fire. Is there a way out for the consultant or has Jac reached the end of the line?
1. Chapter 1

Jac watched the lightly falling rain from the bedroom window. The moon shone in the night sky and illuminated the droplets as they cascaded past the murky glass. She took care not to make a sound; Guy was lying in the bed behind her, snoring with his arms wrapped around where she had been just moments before.

Jac raised a pale finger to her temple and felt the newly-formed bruise. She winced as a jolt of pain shot through her head but she did not make a sound. It was only a bruise and like all bruises it would fade in time. Until then it was easily covered with makeup. Jac took a deep breath and walked gingerly back towards the bed. She climbed under the covers and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She didn't sleep, she just kept staring and in her chest, her heartbeat slowed. It was only a few hours until morning and she felt trapped. She was trapped. More trapped than she had ever been before in her life and as she stared, she could see no way out. No escape.

There was a grunt beside her and Jac looked down to watch as Guy rolled over in his sleep. He looked so peaceful as his chest rose up and down in time with his snores.

'Nothing is worth this,' Jac whispered aloud. She closed her eyes and attempted to force her body into sleep. But the moment her eyelids shut, dark thoughts floated around her fragile mind and Jac found herself reliving memories she had long since buried deep beneath the surface. Her fists clenched underneath the duvet as her breathing grew shallower but she still could not sleep. Her eyes flickered open and she turned her head to watch the window again.

'Ms. Naylor?' A figure swam into focus in front of Jac's bleary eyes and she saw that it was a frightened F1 student staring at her for advice. As soon as she registered this, Jac could feel the eyes of every person in the room burning into her.

'What?' The F1 staggered away from her, evidently afraid that he was about to be Naylored.

'You were explaining your diagnosis-' the F1 began but he fell silent as a flash of anger shot across Jac's eyes.

'I know,' Jac barked. 'As I was saying, Mrs. Richards symptoms can only point to one thing and that is?' She looked around at the expectant students. None of them dared speak. 'Is this a game or are you all suddenly mute?' They shook their heads in unison whilst some mumbled apologies. 'Apologies are meaningless. I want action.' She turned and stared directly at the student who had spoken before. 'You.'

'Me?' The student stammered, pointing at his chest.

'No, I'm talking to the poster of a human cross-section behind you. Of course I meant you. Although, now that I come to think of it, perhaps the poster would be able to give me a more accurate answer than any of you are managing.' She could see the student's legs trembling and she knew it wasn't his fault but none of that mattered. She needed some way to vent her anger and these students were the perfect target practice.

'Erm,' the student began.

'Erm? What is erm?' Jac snapped back. 'By the time you've managed to spit out your diagnosis, Mrs. Richards will be halfway on her way to the morgue -' There was an anguished cry behind her. 'Just an example, Mrs. Richards,' Jac said, waving her hand in the patient's direction. 'Right, get on with it - I haven't got all day.' The student cleared his throat and took a deep breath; Jac could see the blush on his cheeks and the sweat forming on his brow.

'The…the symptoms would suggest a…' He trailed off into silence.

'Would suggest? Come on HO!'

'Would…would suggest a…I don't know. I'm sorry, Ms. Naylor.' Jac sighed. The boy was lucky, Jac thought. Lucky that she was too tired to wither him with a single practiced look.

'The symptoms would suggest a myocardial infarction,' Jac finished. 'Really this is basic stuff. My daughter -' Jac stopped. It was painful to think of Emma. 'Right I want a five thousand word essay from each of you on the ways of identifying myocardial infarctions and the most appropriate ways of treating a patient presenting with all those symptoms.' She looked around the room at each of them. In the far corner a hand shot up and waved in her direction. 'Go on,' Jac said wearily.

'When do you want it by?'

'First thing tomorrow morning.' At once she could hear the murmurs of dissent spreading from one student to the next.

'But we've got ward rounds all day,' the girl with the waving hand protested.

'Then I suggest you pull an all-nighter,' Jac replied and they knew from her tone that they would find no sympathy here. 'Cardiothoracic medicine is not easy,' Jac told them. 'It will take everything from you but if you have the gumption and the desire to succeed then it will reward more than it takes.' She paused. Every student's gaze was fixed upon her and she was pleased to see that they were all listening intently. 'First thing, tomorrow morning.' They nodded albeit with a fair few whispered grumbles. 'Go!'

Jac stared into the bathroom mirror, inspecting her temple. She couldn't see the bruise but she could still feel it. It hurt more now than it had the previous night but Jac would just have to bear it. There was nothing she could do. Her hands ventured towards the taps and she was about to turn them on when the door creaked open behind her.

'Jac.' Jac wheeled around immediately and found herself face to face with Guy.

'This is the ladies,' Jac said impassively.

'I was looking for you,' Guy replied and his lips curled into an unfeeling smile.

'It looks like you found me,' said Jac. She wanted nothing more than to walk past him but Guy was blocking the only exit.

'I was hoping you hadn't forgotten your presentation at four o'clock.' Jac's heart skipped a beat.

'I hadn't,' she said after a fairly long pause.

'You see it's four o'clock now and the funny thing is, you're here and not at that presentation,' Guy's eyes were boring into hers now but Jac was determined not to let him win.

'I wasn't feeling myself,' Jac told him. It was true, she had been feeling under the weather all day but that was no doubt due to the increased lack of sleep she had been getting in recent weeks.

'They're waiting for you upstairs.' Guy stepped aside to allow her to pass but as Jac began to walk towards the door, he grabbed the top of her arm and twisted her around until her face was inches away from his. Jac could smell whiskey on his breath and her stomach churned. 'If you ever make me look like an idiot again,' Guy whispered dangerously. 'I will make your life a living hell.' Jac said nothing. 'Do you understand me?'

'Yes,' Jac muttered bitterly. Guy let go of her arm and watched as Jac disappeared as fast as she could from the bathroom. Her arm was burning but it was hidden beneath the frills of her shirt.

'As you can see, the projected financial growth for Darwin Ward would sustain the entire hospital for at least another five years,' Jac finished and folded her arms, waiting for the lukewarm applause to finally die out completely. 'Any questions?' There was a shuffling in the nearest seat and Jac watched as the Chairman of the Board, Angus Farrell cleared his throat.

'This is fascinating, Ms. Naylor,' Angus said softly. 'But are you sure you've done your calculations correctly?'

'What do you mean?' Jac replied, looking at Angus without blinking.

'You claim that your project could sustain the entire hospital for five years.'

'I did.'

'Well, forgive me if I fail to see how that is possible.' Jac sighed. She had expected this from Angus.

'Well as you can see from this chart,' Jac flicked back a couple of slides on her presentation. 'The revenue gained from this project would be quadruple what Holby City already receives from the Herzig 5.'

'I'm sorry, you've lost me,' Angus said, smiling. 'How exactly do you know that your project will be four times as successful as Professor Hope's Herzig?'

'I wasn't aware that confidence was deemed a failing,' Jac shot back.

'No, confidence isn't. Over-confidence, well that's a different matter entirely.' Jac's patience was beginning to wear thin with this facade and her shift had already finished over half an hour ago. 'The concept is a good one, Ms. Naylor,' Angus conceded.

'But?' Jac prompted. Angus cleared his throat again.

'But I'm afraid this trust cannot fund it. Not at its current level of development.' Anger flared throughout Jac's body, her ears were glowing red and she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smile from Angus' smarmy face. But Jac contained herself. She merely smiled and nodded back at him.

'I will keep working on it,' Jac told them.

'I'm glad to hear it,' said Angus. 'As I mentioned, the concept itself is a good one. It just needs a little more work.'

'Thank you.'

'Right, well I think that's about it for today,' Angus announced to the rest of the room. Jac waited and watched as the board members gathered their belongings and headed for the door. Her laptop was still plugged in and the presentation blared on the projector.

The rest of the room was silent leaving Jac alone with her thoughts.

There was an envelope waiting for Jac on her bedside table when she got back to the house that evening. She could hear Guy cooking in the kitchen but she didn't feel like greeting him. Instead, Jac tiptoed up to their bedroom and her eyes soon fell upon the envelope. It's cream colouring glinted slightly in the fading light and Jac recognised the handwriting scrawled across it.

She peeled it open carefully and pulled out the letter inside. Unfolding the paper, Jac began to read.

_Dear Jac,_

_I__'__m sorry I haven__'__t written to you before now. Emma is enjoying her stay with her aunt very much and the weather in Edinburgh has been fairly warm these past few days. We went to the park yesterday and Emma had great fun looking at all the different plants. _

_Anyway, I__'__ll keep this brief. She misses you, Jac. _

_ See you soon,_

_Jonny. _

Jac closed the letter with a snap and tossed it aside. She didn't want to think about Emma, not now. She hated Jonny for what he had tried to do and she hated him even more now for how he still kept trying to include her in Emma's life. As far as Jac was concerned, she had forfeited her right to be Emma's mother when she said goodbye to the pair of them at that airport. It all seemed such a long time ago but in reality it had only been a few months. 

It had been a relief for her when Jonny had announced he was taking two weeks off to take Emma on holiday to Edinburgh so that she could meet and spend time with her aunt. But Jac couldn't say anything and every day that Jonny was on the ward, he would talk about Emma and everything she had done. Her insides burned every time she heard her daughter's name but she had no right to feel that way.

Jac climbed on top of the duvet and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Jonny's letter was still visible in the corner of her eye. Jac rolled over away from it and closed her eyes. Her chest rose up and down as sleep overcame her at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Swirling grey clouds passed by the window as the train hurtled away from the lifeless city. The blue seats rumbled in time with the engine but Jac Naylor lay fast asleep across them. She was alone in the carriage save for a man shrouded in shadow at the other end. His face was hidden behind the front page of the _Holby Gazette. _

Every now and then, the man lowered his paper and stared at Jac. He wore garish sunglasses on his head which seemed to deliberately clash with the outrageously pink shirt he had chosen.

Jac shuffled over and for a moment, her eyes seemed to flicker open but before the man could check, she was sound asleep again. He raised the paper back up to his eyes and turned over the page.

'_The next station is Bristol Temple Meads.__' _The familiar sound of the tannoy echoed throughout the carriage just loud enough to finally shake Jac out of her slumber. She sat up, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. Outside the train was braking slowly as it approached the station.

"Naylor?" Jac looked up into the familiar and arrogant face of Michael Spence. It had been quite a while since they had last laid eyes on each other but it was clear that time had not weathered Michael's appearance in any way. "You look terrible."

"Nice to see you too, Michael," said Jac, grimacing at the American.

"Whatcha doing here?" Jac rolled her eyes. She didn't want to be rude but he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

"I'm going to London," Jac replied, feeling that she might as well tell him. Michael's face broke out into a broad smile.

"Now isn't that a coincidence?"

"What is?"

"That's where I'm headed too. Let's ride together." Jac scowled at him and did not reply. "Ah come on, Naylor. It'll be just like old times."

"Those are exactly the times that I want to forget." Michael continued to stare at her. "Would you mind?" But Michael didn't go and Jac was beginning to lose her patience with him. "Look, I know you mean well-" Jac began but Michael cut across her.

"What's happened to you, Naylor?" The self-assuredness had left Michael's voice as he gazed deep into her eyes.

Jac and Michael watched as the train left Bristol behind in the distance. They were still the only ones in the first class carriage, a fact that Jac was quietly grateful for. Michael reached into his rucksack and drew out a packet of jelly babies that he offered to Jac who held her hand up as if to say: "stop." Michael shrugged and flicked a green jelly baby into his mouth.

"So," Michael said in an attempt to initiate conversation between them.

"So what?" Jac had grudgingly allowed him to sit at her table but that didn't mean she was going to engage the man in any form of meaningful conversation.

"I heard about your mum." Jac stared straight through him. "I know you weren't close but, I'm sorry."

"She's dead. Life goes on," said Jac but the look in her eyes betrayed the words.

"And how's that working out for you?"

"I'm still alive."

Michael frowned. He'd known Jac for a long time but there was something about her now that didn't seem to quite fit with the woman he remembered. It was as if she had given up entirely and the Jac that sat opposite from him was nothing more than an empty shell devoid of emotion.

"You know I'll always listen?" Michael asked tentatively. Jac raised her eyebrows quizzically at him. "You can always talk to me okay, Naylor?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jac muttered. But Michael wasn't giving up so easily.

"So there is something going on?"

"There's nothing going on," Jac said angrily. "I'm fine."

"Where's your daughter then?" She glared at him and from the pale glint in her eyes, Michael saw that he had finally managed to get through to her.

"She's with her dad," explained Jac. "And that's the way it has to stay."

"My kids are with their mum," said Michael, pronouncing mum in that American way of his. "In the States," he added as an afterthought.

Jac said nothing and the conversation soon collapsed back into silence. But it was a silence shared between two friends as they finally understood one another.

"Fancy a game of cards?" An hour and several stations had passed with the pair of them barely saying a word to each other. Jac gave Michael a look that he knew all too well but it didn't faze him.

"Trust you to bring a pack of cards with you," Jac said and, for the first time, she smiled. Michael reached into his rucksack and ruffled around inside it.

"Ah," he said.

"What?"

"How about snap?" Michael said as he drew his hand back out and laid the snap cards on the table in front of them. Jac couldn't help herself, she just laughed and watched as Michael shuffled and divided the pack between them. He laid one pile face down in front of Jac and the other in front of him.

"Who goes first?"

"Toss a coin," replied Michael, pulling a coin out of his wallet and flinging it at Jac who caught it gracefully between her thumb and forefinger.

"Heads or tails?"

"I'll go heads."

Jac flicked the coin upwards and they both watched as it twisted and turned in the air before landing on the table with a metallic clatter. Jac leaned forwards.

"Tails. Looks like I go first then." Michael sat back in his seat, grinning. Jac picked up the first card and laid it face up.

"My go." Michael turned over his first card and laid it beside Jac's. The two cards did not match.

"Why are you going to London?" Jac asked as she placed her second card on the table.

"Job interview," Michael told her and placed his second card beside hers. "Aha, snap!"

"Well I know one thing for certain," said Jac.

"What's that?"

"Nobody could mistake you for a grownup right now." Michael was still revelling in his first victory as Jac shuffled her pile.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why are you going to London? Shouldn't you be saving lives or something?"

"Guy sent me," Jac answered. "I was requested for a complicated cardiothoracic procedure at the Royal London Hospital." The game lay abandoned between them as Michael studied Jac closely.

"You don't seem particularly happy about that?"

"Should I be?" Jac shrugged.

"The Naylor I know would be."

"Things have changed, Michael."

'_The next station is London Paddington where this train will terminate.__' _Michael tidied the unfinished game of snap and put the cards back into his rucksack.

"What happened to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Jac as she too tidied her belongings away.

"Naylor-" Michael began but Jac had finally had enough.

"Look people change all the time, Michael! You have to or you get left behind."

"You're hiding," Michael told her. "I don't know what from but I know when someone's hiding." Jac scowled and stared out of the window away from Michael's gaze.

The train was slowing down considerably now as it pulled into Paddington station.

"Good luck with your interview," Jac said at last. "Not that you'll need it."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Michael with a heavy sigh. It was Jac's turn now to stare uncertainly.

"What do you mean?" The boyish gleam had left Michael's eyes as he glanced back at Jac.

"Things haven't gone so well for me lately," Michael admitted. "No one wants a cocky old American any more."

"There'll be something out there for you," Jac told him. "There always is." Michael made a face.

"Not this time, Naylor. Not this time." He stood up as the train slowed to a halt.

_'__This is London Paddington. Change here for London Underground services__…' _Jac waited for Michael to step out into the gangway before standing herself.

"I wish I could tell you," Jac whispered. "But it's just-"

"It's okay," Michael told her. "I understand. Believe me." They walked along the gangway to the exit and waited in the between area for the open light to flash up on the outer door.

"I'm sorry." The light flashed up at last and Michael pressed it almost instantly, waiting for the familiar whirring sound that would imply the door was opening. Before he stepped out on to the platform, Michael turned and looked back at Jac, placing a crumpled scrap of paper in her hand.

"Things will get better. Trust me."

Before Jac could answer, Michael had disappeared into the bustling crowd that were emerging from the other carriages. She stepped off the train just as the door began to close behind her.

People pushed past her from every direction but Jac hardly seemed to notice as she inspected the screwed up paper in her left hand. She unfolded it to see a number written in Michael's handwriting.

'_If you need to talk - Michael.__' _

Jac pulled out her purse and slid the paper inside it. Then, with a backwards glance, she strode into the thickening crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

Serena couldn't hear a thing over the ruckus issuing from bay three. Mr. Harker was shouting at the top of his lungs and moments later a distressed nurse appeared from behind the curtains, shaking. Serena noticed that the nurse's eyes were red and blotchy.

"Are you all right, Katie?" Serena asked. There was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke and Student Nurse Katie Lytton felt immediately reassured.

"I'm okay," replied Katie. "It's just one of those days." Katie stopped and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I've got exams coming up and I just feel like everything's piling up on me, y'know?"

"Why don't you come into my office? We can have some fresh coffee and a chat," said Serena as Katie gave a quiet nod. "And maybe a biscuit or two, too?" Serena added, watching Katie's quivering lips curl into a sort of half-smile.

"Thank you."

"It's not a problem," Serena told her. From behind them, Mr. Harker made a disparaging remark but Serena ignored him. Mr. Harker was a small man with thin shapeless lips and a combover of grey, wispy hair. He had a large nose that seemed somehow out of place with the rest of his appearance and there were tufts of dark hair growing out of his nostrils. A strong, musty smell hung about him and the boil on his right elbow was oozing a sickly, yellow pus.

"Oi! What about me?" He shouted after them as they walked away from him and towards Serena's office. "I'm talking to you!" But Mr. Harker's yells were met with no response. His face beetroot red, Mr. Harker unhooked the saline drip from his arm and began to climb out of bed.

For a moment he just sat on the edge; his legs were hanging over the side, not touching the floor. As he leant forward to push himself, a sudden pain shot through his abdomen and Mr. Harker winced so much that his eyes began to water.

"And where do you think you're going?" Mr. Harker stopped attempting to get out of bed and looked up to see the impassive face of Eric Griffin staring down at him.

"I've had enough," Mr. Harker complained.

"I see. Of what, exactly?" Ric asked, his face remaining stoic. Mr. Harker felt a wave of annoyance washing over him.

"You lot," Mr. Harker replied and bared his nicotine stained teeth. "Do you know how long I've been sitting here for?" Ric, who had taken this moment to read through Mr. Harker's patient chart, looked up at him and shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid I don't," he said. Mr. Harker's face turned an even deeper shade of scarlet.

"Four hours. Four hours of just lying here. And has anyone bothered to see me? No. I've just been left to rot. Is this how you doctors treat the elderly these days? Like we're just a drain on resources. Well it's not right. It's a bloody disgrace. You," he paused to point a gnarled finger at Ric. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

"It says here that nurse Lytton did your obs a few minutes ago," Ric informed him, unperturbed by Mr. Harker's accusations.

"You mean that stupid little girl?" Mr. Harker spat viciously on the floor.

"I would ask you not to do that," Ric said, frowning.

"Oh I see, I get it."

"Get what?" Ric was beginning to lose patience with the man but he'd been in the business for a long time now and he knew he had to keep his cool. Never give them the opportunity to turn it around to you.

"You lot," Mr. Harker snarled. "You all stick together. Cover each other's backs. Well I've got your number, Eric Griffin. Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

"And what do you think I want?"

"You, you want to get rid of me. It's all about meeting targets and budgets. Nobody cares for the people any more."

"If I remember," Ric began. "You were the one trying to leave without treatment." Mr. Harker opened his mouth to retaliate but seemed to think better of it and sat back, scowling. "I'm sorry that you've had a long wait but we really are exceptionally busy this morning. Now if you'll just let me examine you, maybe we can help things move a little faster. What do you say?" Mr. Harker nodded reluctantly.

Jac sat alone in the consultant's office on Darwin Ward. She looked over at Elliot's empty desk. He was currently in theatre with Mo - it should have been with her but for some reason, Jac had allowed Mo to take her place. She couldn't think why. Maybe she had just wanted some time alone.

Jac rubbed her arm, it still stung where the boiling water had splashed all over it the night before. Several blisters had formed on the patch of burnt skin but Jac was determined not to let it bother her. As she closed her eyes, she watched the scene play out again right in front of her.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, her face ghostly pale. Jac could see Guy boiling the kettle in the corner; two mugs were laid out beside it. Water vapour began to issue from the bubbling kettle and the familiar click told Guy that it was ready. He beckoned for Jac to come over to him. Not wishing to start another row, Jac obliged and stood up. She walked carefully towards him.

Guy had begun to pour the water into the first cup and the aroma of fresh tea soon filled the air. But as Jac stood next to him, he grabbed her arm and held it down. Jac made no effort to fight it, her eyes were fixed upon his as he poured the water on to her exposed skin. Jac's screams filled the air.

She awoke with a jolt. Elliot was standing in front of her, his eyes full of concern.

"Jac?" Elliot asked, his voice soft. "Late night was it?" Jac quickly covered her arm with her sleeve. She wondered how much the professor had seen.

"Something like that," Jac muttered.

"Do you want me to take on some of your list?" Jac knew Elliot was trying to be kind but that didn't stop a glare from briefly appearing in her eyes. She blinked and forced herself to smile.

"No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I just need another coffee or something." Elliot stared at her, frowning. He was worried about her but Jac knew best.

"Well only if you're sure."

"You know me," said Jac, contorting her face into a half-smile.

"Yes, that's what I'm afraid of."

Katie took a nervous bite of the biscuit, chewed for a minute and then gulped it down. All this time, Serena watched her from behind her mug of coffee.

"Everything's getting on top of me," Katie said once she had calmed down enough to speak. "I'm working two shifts a day, I've got exams to revise for and I just feel like everybody expects me to fail. D'you know what I mean?" Serena took another sip of coffee.

"It's normal to feel like you do," she told Katie.

"Everyone else seems to be coping. I just feel so…useless. Maybe nursing wasn't the right idea for me." Before Serena could answer, her eyes caught sight of a brown envelope lying on top of the pile of folders on her desk. She pushed it aside with the back of her hand.

"Why do you say that?" said Serena, turning back to face Katie.

"Mr. Griffin shouted at me yesterday when I got Mr. Phillips confused with Mrs. Philips," Katie's voice quivered as she remembered the look on Ric's face when she had told him of her mistake.

"Oh Mr. Griffin tends to do that. I wouldn't worry about it. Between you and me, he's a bit of an old dinosaur - but don't tell him I said that," Serena smiled knowingly at Katie. She tried to laugh but only a small, high-pitched squeak came out.

"What do you think I should do?"

"Well, I can't provide the answers. That's something you have to figure out for yourself," Serena told her.

"I'm not sure if I'm cut out for all this," said Katie. She picked up her empty mug and began to finger the handle absentmindedly.

"Look at me," said Serena.

"Sorry?" Katie didn't understand what was going on and she was scared to look at Serena in case the consultant was about to yell at her.

"I'm not going to frighten you," Serena murmured. "Just look at me." Unsteadily, Katie lifted her head to stare at Serena. "Why did you decide to become a nurse?"

"I wanted to help people," replied Katie. "I've always wanted to help others. I used to care for my little brother whenever our mum was away. She'd go away a lot - y'know on business trips but there was no one else to look after us, so…I had to…" Katie's voice trailed away into nothing.

"Life is a funny old beast," said Serena, her eyes fixed upon Katie's. "It can be so dark sometimes and you feel as if you'll never see light again but just around the corner is something so magical, so important that you forget what it was like to be in darkness. The ability, no, the desire to help others is something so very special and so wonderful. You have the opportunity to literally change people's lives."

Katie placed the mug down on its coaster.

"I guess you're right," she whispered.

"Go on," said Serena. "Go out there and show them what you're made of."

Zosia had just slipped the amoxicillin into her pocket when she heard a dry cough behind her. She wheeled around almost instantly and found herself face to face with an irate Jac.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jac held out her hand for the amoxicillin. But Zosia brushed it away and tried to push past her. "I asked you a question," said Jac, blocking the entrance to the supply cupboard.

"It's none of your business," snapped Zosia. Her nostrils had flared and she was glowering at Jac.

"If you're stealing medical supplies, it is very much my business," replied Jac, glaring back at the F2.

"It's for a patient if you must know," said Zosia, desperately trying to think of an excuse.

"Oh and you just thought you'd slip it in your pocket?"

"Easier than carrying it," Zosia retorted but Jac was having none of it.

"You may be daddy's little princess," Jac whispered under her breath. "But don't think for one second that your poor little me act is going to wash with me. Now give me the amoxicillin and we won't say anything more about it."

Grudgingly, Zosia handed the packet over to Jac. Before Jac could say anything more, Zosia had flounced away from the cupboard, her ears bright red.

Mrs. Angela Ramsbottom watched the world go by from the quiet confines of her hospital bed. She stared as Arthur Digby busied himself with a young male patient; Angela wondered what the poor man had been admitted for and whether or not he would be okay. Eventually it became too much and Angela turned her head to see Guy Self walking towards her.

As he drew closer, Angela spotted the sombre expression on his face and even before he told her, she knew that her life was over.

"I'm afraid it's not good news," Guy informed her.

"I know," said Angela. She didn't even feel the tear that rolled down her left cheek. There was no use in crying. What could crying do? "I guessed," she added when Guy shot her a quizzical look.

"I'm sorry to say but the cancer has metastasised. Even if surgery was an option, I couldn't get all of it." Guy paused, allowing time for the news to sink in.

"I understand." Angela's voice was quiet and both her eyes were wet with silver tears. She wiped them away and fought hard to keep her expression stable.

"Is there anyone you'd like me to call for you?" At first, Angela shook her head but then she nodded.

"Yes, my daughter, Amelie."

"Do you have a number for her?"

"Yes…no. No, wait. There's no point."

"Why not?"

"She's in New York. Even if she could get here, I don't want to spoil the first holiday she's had in years." Guy could see that Angela had made up her mind but there had to be something he could do for her.

"She won't forgive you for keeping it from her," Guy said and his mind went back to Zosia. "It's better to be open than to keep secrets."

"I don't know if I can face telling her," Angela said, her voice breaking.

"I know it's hard," Guy whispered. "All you want to do is keep her safe and far from harm."

"Could you do it?" Angela asked.

"What?"

"Could you tell her?" Guy's stomach lurched unpleasantly.

"I think it would be best coming from you," he said.

"I don't know if I can…" Angela felt silent, then she fixed Guy with a piercing stare. "Ring her, ring her for me."

"I will," said Guy as Angela scribbled the number down and handed the scrap of paper to him.

Serena hands closed around the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon; the envelope lay ripped open on the floor of her office and Serena could feel the letter in her pocket. Its edges were sticking into her thigh.

"Is this a private party or can I join?" Serena looked over her shoulder. Ric was standing a little way in front of the door.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"I didn't think you'd notice," said Ric. Serena put the bottle down and strode over to him.

"If you don't mind," Serena said, ushering him back towards the door. Ric caught sight of her expression and stopped moving.

"Has something happened?"

"Yes, I've been invited to a house party by the Dalai Lama but I can't go and it's all very unfortunate." But Ric wasn't fooled. He knew Serena well enough by now to know when she was being defensive.

"What's happened?" Ric had his fingers clenched around the handle. He pushed the door shut and looked back at Serena.

"Edward," Serena murmured. "It's Edward."

The atmosphere in the house was an unpleasant one. Guy and Jac were engaged in a bitter row; several plates and cups lay shattered on the floor but they showed no signs of calming down.

"How dare you accuse my daughter of stealing," Guy snarled at Jac.

"Why can't you see that she has a problem?" Jac shouted back.

"I will not have you talk about her like that!"

"What is it going to take for you to realise that she's not your little princess any more? She's a grown woman and she is going to kill herself!" Guy swung at Jac who ducked and backed away into the hallway.

She didn't know why she did it. She'd long learnt that she should let Guy get it over with. Predictably, Guy followed her into the hallway - he was still shouting and Jac could barely hear herself think.

"You're jealous!"

"I am not jealous," said Jac, incredulous. She backed further away from Guy towards the french windows. She knew she was trapped and there was nothing she could do.

"Why do you always have to spoil everything?" Guy had got his voice down to a cold whisper which was somehow worse than the impassioned shouting. "Haven't I given you everything?" Jac did not answer, she knew better than that. "And what have you done with it?" He raised his hand to Jac's face. For a moment she thought he was going to strike her but then he grabbed her bun and began to pull it down. "Apologise."

"Sorry," Jac said faintly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Jac said, louder. Guy let go of her bun and Jac's heart skipped a beat. Was that it?

As if in answer, Guy grabbed her and threw her forwards. Jac saw it happen in slow motion - her body collided with the glass and as it shattered she was propelled through it. She could feel the shards of glass piercing her all over and as her body hit the stone paving, face first, everything went dark.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Jac remembered when she awoke the next day was the look of horror on Guy's face as he rushed through the shattered remains of the french windows - it was almost as if he cared that he might have caused her irreparable harm. Jac reached up and touched the stitches on her left cheek gingerly. They didn't really hurt any more but Jac still found herself wincing.

She turned over and saw that Guy had already left; as far as Jac was concerned this was no bad thing - it meant an entire day free to do whatever she wanted. And she wasn't going to waste a single second longer of it lying in bed.

Jac swung her legs over the side of the bed and, using the mattress to steady herself, she climbed on to her feet and strode towards the oak-varnished wardrobe at the other side of the bedroom.

After Jac had carefully selected a pair of dark trousers and a white blouse to match, she sat down at the dressing table and began to apply her makeup with delicate precision. There was nothing she could do to hide the ugly stitches but neither was she ashamed. Each time she gazed upon them, they reminded her of her own fragility and of how she had been lucky to escape with nothing more. Though she knew she had not escaped, not really.

After she had tied her hair up into an inimitable bun, Jac stared at herself in the mirror and examined every possible angle that she could see. She did this for several minutes before eventually deciding that today was going to be a hair-down sort of day. Satisfied at last, Jac reached into the uppermost drawer and pulled out a jewel-encrusted box which was sealed with a small padlock. Jac stuck her hand back into the drawer and this time she clutched a small 2014 year planner.

She dropped the planner beside the box and flipped open the page to September. There, obscuring the 30th day, was a tiny key. Jac scooped up the key and used it to unlock the padlock. With the jewellery box now open, Jac had found what she had been looking for. She stared unblinking at Michael's note for a considerable amount of time before finally pocketing it and replacing the box, with padlock, back into its original position. After this was done, Jac walked out on to the landing, closing the bedroom door behind her.

"Mum!" Angela looked up from her bed as her daughter appeared from around a corner, walking hurriedly in her direction. The first thing Angela noted was the slight New York twang in which her daughter spoke and it took her a few moments to get her weary head around it.

"I didn't think you'd come," said Angela, looking away from Amelie. Her whole body twitched as Amelie squeezed her hand and she quickly pulled it from her grasp.

"Why wouldn't I come?" Amelie asked. "You're my mother."

"When it suits you," replied Angela.

"Please, I haven't come here to argue. I just want to see how you are."

"Well, I don't want you here." Angela turned away from her daughter and buried her head in her pillow so that Amelie would not see the tears that rolled continuously down her cheeks.

"The doctor said you asked to see me," Amelie protested. The concern in her voice had been replaced by frantic exasperation and it was clear from her exhausted expression that she was severely jet-lagged.

"Please, just go," said Angela in hushed tones. "It was a mistake, I shouldn't have told them to call you, I'm sorry." Amelie took a deep breath and sat down in the chair beside her mother's bed.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," said Amelie, her voice firm. "They told me you were sick but they wouldn't explain anything and I am sick of you hiding things from me, mum. I've had it all my life but not any more, okay? So, just tell me what's the matter and I'll get out of your hair. I can't stay long anyway, I only booked the hotel for one night." There was a stony silence between them broken only by the regular bleeps of the cardiac monitor. After a while, Amelie grew impatient and rose from her seat but as she turned to walk away, Angela found her voice at last.

"I've got cancer." Amelie's heart skipped a beat - for a moment she felt as if she was stepping across shards of broken glass with a white hot sun glaring down on her. Her palms began to shake and when she opened her mouth she could only emit the tiniest of inaudible squawks. All through this, Amelie could feel her mum's eyes boring into her very soul and although she hated herself for thinking it, there was only one thought that entered her mind. _She__'__s finally won. _

The tearoom was almost entirely empty apart from a small circular table at the back where Jac and Michael sat, drinking their second mug of fresh coffee. The walls were decorated with a garish yellow wallpaper that resembled the type one might normally find resigned to the memory of an old 70s BBC sitcom.

Apart from their table, there were only about five or six others of varying shapes and sizes and at the front of the tearoom was situated the till. An old man stood behind it, his drooping eyes fixed upon the only customers he had seen all morning. But each time Jac or Michael turned to look at him, he pretended to be stocking the, now considerably full, cookie jar.

"So are you gonna tell me how you got these injuries?" Michael asked, taking a sip of coffee and watching Jac closely to see how she would react.

"It was just an accident," Jac told him, looking away. She attempted to change the conversation by talking suddenly about the hideous painting on the wall behind them. It was, they assumed, of a fishing boat in a swirling lake of turquoise and vibrant greens. They supposed the artist in some moment of madness had fancied themselves quite the impressionist to dubious results.

"You didn't call me here to talk about paintings, Naylor. What's going on?" Jac clutched her coffee mug tightly but as she drew the mug towards her face, her fingers trembled and shook so badly that she had to place it back on the table without having taken a sip.

"We argued," said Jac stoically.

"We? Who's we?"

"Guy and I."

"Everybody argues, Naylor. And you're forgetting, I know you. The Jac Naylor I worked with would not let some silly argument get to her like this. I know there's more to this so you can either tell me and let me help you or you can walk out that door right now and try to take the whole world on your shoulders again." Jac said nothing. "So what's it gonna be?"

As if in reply, Jac stood suddenly to her feet and made for the door, leaving Michael alone with two steaming coffee mugs.

Amelie could not bear to look at her mother but although she buried her head deep inside her book, she could still hear Guy's voice as he walked Angela through a couple of medical tests. She waited until Guy's footsteps had faded away before closing her book and replacing it inside her rucksack.

"How long?" Amelie asked, clenching her fists behind her back.

"I don't know," replied Angela truthfully. "It could be as little as a few weeks or as long as a few months."

"A few months isn't long," said Amelie through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry," Angela began but this was more than Amelie could stand as she rounded on her mother.

"You're dying and you're sorry? Is that all you've got to say?"

"No, but -"

"Supposing you had died before you told me, what then? Would I have just received an impersonal phone call from hospital or from Uncle Derek to let me know my mum had died of a disease I had no idea she even had?"

"You don't -"

"I don't what? Understand? Of course I don't understand. Ever since I moved to New York with Christian, I've barely heard a word from you. We used to be close, mum, closer than you were with Abigail." She paused to stare at the pained expression on Angela's face. "Yes, mum, I mentioned her name. I'm tired of pretending she didn't exist."

"That's not…I never-"

"Never meant to keep my sister's illness hidden from me? Just like you never meant to hide yours."

"It was Abigail's choice, you never understood."

"That's right, I never did. I still don't. I have spent my entire life being handled with care like some fragile object that might smash if god forbid you ever told me the truth about anything."

"Amelie, I-" but the rest of Angela's voice was drowned out by a horrible gurgling sound emitting from her throat. She began to convulse wildly, her mouth foaming.

"Mum? Mum what's going on?" Amelie stood frozen, watching her mother gasp for air. She wanted to call for help but she couldn't find the words and as the alarms began to sound, Amelie found herself being roughly shoved aside as Guy and Digby attempted to bring Angela back.

Michael found Jac in the Farmead Estate. She was leaving the chemist when she caught sight of the American watching her from a broken and rusted swing.

"Leave me alone, Michael," said Jac. "It was a mistake calling you."

"Now I don't believe that and I know you don't believe that," Michael replied, leaping off the swing and sidling up to her.

"I just want to be on my own," implored Jac. "Please."

"No can do, Naylor," Michael told her. "You're in no fit state to be on your own today."

"I'm always on my own," spat Jac, her temper fraying just for a second. Michael was unperturbed.

"No, you choose to be on your own. That's always been your biggest problem, Naylor."

"Oh are you an expert on me now?" Jac broke into a faster pace but Michael kept up with her with ease.

"I know you."

"Stop saying that."

"It's the truth."

"Your truth."

"Naylor, I'm just trying to be a friend. I think that's what you need." Jac stopped and looked back at Michael's expressive face. Deep down she knew he cared about her but that was what made it ten times worse and why she knew she could not tell him what was really going on.

"I don't need friends," Jac said. "Friends leave. Friends die."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Michael's words cut through her hard exterior but she shook her head and started to walk again. Michael quickly followed.

"I can't tell you," said Jac, an air of desperation in her voice now.

"Can't or won't?"

"All right, I won't tell you. You don't live here any more, Michael. If I tell you, you'll just run faster."

"I'm not gonna leave you, Naylor. Not like this." This time it was Michael who stopped and Jac who followed suit. She stared at him, eyeing him up from head to toe.

"I'm horrible to you. I am so, so vile. Why wouldn't you leave?"

"Because I care about what happens to you."

"I don't."

"So are you gonna let me help you or what?" Jac thought for a moment and then nodded.

"But not today," she added. "I need time to think."

"I've got all the time in the world," said Michael, smiling. "Well, this is me." They had reached a grotty three-star hotel and Michael began to climb the moss covered stairs.

"Not your usual standards," said Jac and she gave Michael a look he knew all too well.

"What can I say? I'm downsizing."

"All those exes finally catching up with you."

"Get going, Naylor," said Michael, laughing. He got to the front door and stopped, waiting for Jac's retreating figure to disappear around the street corner. Once he was alone, Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile.

"Hi, it's Michael Spence. If that job offer's still going, I'd like to accept. I can start tomorrow." He hung up and took one last look at his surroundings. "You're not alone, Naylor."


	5. Chapter 5

Amelie hung back in the dark corners of the room as one of the nurses dabbed at her mother's pale face. She still couldn't believe it. No, the truth was she didn't want to believe it. There were still so many things that would forever be left unsaid. Amelie swallowed but the lump in her throat remained.

"Do you want to see her?" The nurse asked but Amelie shook her head. "You don't have to but it can help the grieving process."

"I'm fine," Amelie tried to say but her words were faint and her eyes betrayed her lie.

"We'll be taking her to the morgue shortly," the nurse informed her and, with a gentle rub of Amelie's shoulder, she left them alone.

Amelie took a step towards Angela's body and then another. She had to say goodbye at least. The room felt as if it was growing colder with every step; Amelie's legs start to shake so violently that it became almost impossible for her to move any closer. But she was not so easily defeated. Amelie found herself looking down at Angela's peaceful face, her eyes closed and all semblance of life washed away.

"I don't forgive you," said Amelie. "I can't." She wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't want it to end like this. I didn't know…" Her voice trailed away into nothingness. Amelie's fingers found the edge of the white sheet. "You be happy now, okay? Tell Abi…tell her I'm sorry and," Amelie broke off and this time she did not attempt to stem the flow of tears cascading down her chilled cheeks. She felt the roughness of the sheet still clutched between her thumb and forefinger. "What's the use?" Amelie said and glanced up at the white plastered ceiling. She covered her mother's face with the sheet.

Jac lay on her front, her eyes skimming through the pages of a hefty book on cardiovascular disease. Every now and then, Jac's eyes flickered to the fresh burn mark on her arm where Guy had slammed it against the hot stove the night before. A large blister had already formed and it still stung just by looking at it. Jac felt no pain, however. She rarely felt anything anymore. Her eyelids began to droop. Joseph's face loomed in her mind but it wasn't the Joseph who had left her behind. His eyes looked on hers with coldness in them and as his lips moved, Jac began to tremble all over.

_Why do you always want to see me cry?_

_ To see how far robotics has progressed. _

Jac began to scratch at the blister. It was gentle at first but a fury seemed to take hold of her and she scratched harder and faster. The skin of the blister burst and its liquid contents splashed around the wound but Jac did not desist. Perhaps, Jac thought, she would break the skin and expose the metal below.

"Jac?" Guy's voice sounded from behind the closed door. Jac looked up at her arm and was shocked to see wet blood trickling down towards her wrist. "Jac, are you in there?"

"J…just a second," Jac managed to reply and she quickly leapt off the bed. She was walking towards the door when Guy opened it and came inside.

"I think we need to talk," said Guy, taking a seat on their bed. He patted the duvet beside him, indicating for Jac to sit as well. Jac did as she was told.

"Do we?" Jac looked up at Guy's face. He wasn't angry. She couldn't remember the last time he had smiled like that at her before. It was strange, unnerving even.

"We don't often get the chance to just talk," said Guy. He stroked her elbow with a soft movement of his hand.

"We're just busy," Jac replied, twisting her body away from his. Guy caught sight of the blood drying on her arm and frowned.

"What happened?"

_You did. _Jac bit her tongue.

"I caught it on something," she lied. "It's nothing."

"You need to wash that," Guy whispered. "It could get infected." He held her fingers between his.

_I__'__m already infected. _

"I'll do it later," Jac said, flinching at Guy's cold touch.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Guy was looking straight into her now but he could not see.

_ I hate you. _Guy leant towards her and kissed her cheek.

"Guy," Jac began but she thought better of it. She closed her mouth and looked away. Her face stung with shame.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just need to read up on this procedure." She indicated the book lying facedown beside her. She expected Guy's temper to flare but he merely nodded and slid off the bed.

"I'll get the first aid kit for you," he said as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

Michael Spence stepped on to AAU with a new gleam in his eye. He rubbed his hands and smiled as he observed Serena dealing with a patient. Seizing his opportunity, Michael strode towards Serena and scooped up the clipboard attached to the metal frame of the trolley.

"Compound fracture of the tib and fib," Michael enthused. Serena turned her head to stare mercilessly at him.

"Michael Spence, I might have guessed."

"Been a while Ms. Campbell," replied Michael. "Look at the state of this place, Ric losing his touch?"

"Our dear Mr. Griffin is currently raving about the wonders of free healthcare in the scorching heats of the United States. Meanwhile, the NHS continues to crumble under lack of funding and a government that couldn't care less," Serena finished with a sardonic smile.

"I hear you," said Michael. "So, what happened to this guy?" Serena deftly grabbed the clipboard out of Michael's relaxed grip.

"Mr. Spence, this is Mr. Wallis. Mr. Wallis, this is Mr. Spence."

"I would get up and shake your hand," said Mr. Wallis, "but I'm afraid I'm a little bit stuck."

"Would you mind?" Serena handed the clipboard back to Michael who slotted it back into its place. "Mr. Wallis here has a bit of a story to tell."

"Oh yeah?" Michael's eyes surveyed the fractured bone sticking out of Mr. Wallis' leg.

"Oh yes," said Serena. "You see he had a brilliant idea this morning, didn't you, Mr. Wallis?" Mr. Wallis nodded. "Now what do you do if you want to have a tree cut down, Mr. Spence?"

"I give the lumberjacks a call," Michael shrugged.

"Exactly. Mr. Wallis thought differently. He thought it would be a brilliant idea to climb up the tree and start sawing the branches above his head. Unfortunately, Mr. Wallis rather overestimated his sense of balance and plummeted twenty feet onto the gravel below."

"Ouch," said Michael. Serena raised her eyebrow at him before turning back to Mr. Wallis.

"This is going to hurt." Michael pulled the curtain around them.

The sun had set as Michael walked into the memorial garden. He needed somewhere to clear his head and this seemed the best place. There had been subtle changes, Michael noticed as his footsteps squelched on the mulch of wet leaves. Rain was falling but it didn't bother him as his eye caught site of a freshly cleaned plaque attached to a bench that hadn't been there the last time.

_In loving memory of Sacha Levy. _The sound of twig snapping echoed behind Michael and he turned to see Jac standing, frozen. She was holding white lilies rapped in wet brown paper.

"Come on then, Naylor," said Michael. "I won't bite."

"I didn't know you'd be here," said Jac. "I'll come back later." She started to turn away.

"No, wait," Michael whispered. "You don't have to go." Jac hesitated and placed the flowers on Sacha's bench.

"It was my fault," murmured Jac.

"I didn't know," sighed Michael.

"How could you?" They both stared into the distance for a while, watching as the cool rain splashed against their faces. It was Michael who broke the silence.

"You always think things will stay the same," he said. "That you could go away and still come back to how it was before. But that's not true, is it?"

"No," said Jac, her voice quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what your last thought will be before you die?" Jac frowned at him. It seemed a peculiar question to ask.

_Yes, I think the same thought every day. _

"No," said Jac.

"I wonder what Sacha's was," Michael glanced at the flowers as he spoke. The paper was flapping in the gentle breeze and droplets of rainwater glanced off the top of the lilies.

"I have to go."

"There's always a way out, Naylor," said Michael. "It just takes a little time to find it."

_Don__'__t worry about me. _That was what Jac wanted to say but the words would not form in her mouth. _I__'__ll find it. _She faked a smile at Michael and headed back towards the hospital. Michael didn't follow. He heard a faint sound near him.

"Is anyone there?" There was no response. "Hello?" Michael shook his head. It was probably nothing. Perhaps some animal had woken to the sound of falling rain. He wiped the water away from his face and started to walk.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and then a sharp pain in his back. Before he could shout out, Michael was alone again and his knees buckled. Pins and needles flooded through his veins as he lay face up on the cold wet wood. He closed his eyes and saw bright stars.

_I__'__m not ready. _Michael's breathing became laboured and, as he looked up at the hospital, he knew no one was coming.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
